


Upon a Midnight Clear

by Laurielove



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Cheating on Albert, Christmas, Christmas Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Historical Inaccuracy, Love, Love Confessions, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21953269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurielove/pseuds/Laurielove
Summary: After the birth of her second child, and with Christmas approaching, Victoria feels despondent and nostalgic. She invites an old friend to Windsor to join the Christmas festivities. But when Melbourne and Victoria find themselves alone on Christmas night, emotions and feelings resurface, and needs are hard to ignore.A two-chaptered Vicbourne Christmas story written for the 2019 Vicbourne Advent Calendar on the For the Love of Vicbourne Facebook group. Lord M/Victoria. Explicit.
Relationships: William Lamb 2nd Viscount Melbourne & Victoria of the United Kingdom (1819-1901), William Lamb 2nd Viscount Melbourne/Victoria of the United Kingdom (1819-1901)
Comments: 54
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Christmas to all. Enjoy this. The next chapter will follow in the next day or so. xx

_Windsor Castle, December 1841_

Little Bertie had been born in early November. He was a rosy-cheeked chubby thing and everyone had beamed. The son. The heir. It was a relief, she supposed, although she didn’t see why Vicky would not make an equally – if not more – splendid monarch. She had managed, had she not?

That same sense of melancholy she had felt with Vicky returned, but not as harshly. It was now well over a month later and Christmas was nearly upon the royal household, who had moved to Windsor for the festive season. The castle had been lavishly decorated, and Albert had insisted on installing trees in the rooms and corridors. A strange notion, she thought, but she humoured him. He barely seemed to pay her much heed, if truth be told, so busy was he with his schemes and ideas. She did not mind.

The birth had been easy enough and her body recovered quite quickly, she was pleased to acknowledge.

But as the frosts settled on the lawn and snow threatened on the shortest day of the year, a sadness caught her again.

She must have given a little sigh, for Emma inquired, ‘Ma’am? Is there something troubling you?’

She turned distractedly. ‘No, not especially. I am not keen on the short days.’

‘The fire is burning well, Ma’am. Move nearer if you wish.’

She sighed again. ‘Sir Robert took so damnably long over the dispatches this morning. I thought he would never cease his dronings about the new tax laws. Surely he has better things to occupy his time?’

Emma smiled to herself. ‘You sound like William, Ma’am.’

‘William?’ She turned her head briefly, the mere mention of the name making her stomach prance. ‘Lord M?’

‘Lord Melbourne, yes, Ma’am. I apologise, I should not be so familiar in using his Christian name.’

Victoria swallowed. ‘How is he?’

‘Well, Ma’am, I believe.’

‘Enjoying life away from Westminster? And the Palace?’

‘I believe so, Ma’am … although I am sure there are some aspects he misses.’

Her breath had quickened. ‘And I … miss aspects of his … counsel.’

Emma glanced up but said nothing.

Victoria set her head straight again. ‘I shall invite him for Christmas.’

‘Ma’am? I imagine Lord Melbourne will be busy with his own family at Brocket Hall.’

‘I doubt it. His sister will be with Lord Palmerston, I should think. I would imagine Lord M will be in need of some company.’ At this, she paced from the room, saying under her breath, ‘As I am in need of his.’

\--xoOox--

William Lamb still felt that sense of anticipatory joy whenever a letter in the Queen’s hand arrived for him. His breath caught and his heart would be squeezed a little. In truth, far from diminishing since her marriage and his retreat from her service, the feelings had only increased.

He took the letter now and, as was his wont, held it for a while, imagining her own fingers on the envelope, running his thumbs over it, then lifting it to his nose and inhaling the faint lingering scent of her, closing his eyes, picturing her and remembering. Only then, when he had fully absorbed this remnant of her, would he open it and remove the precious fragment of her within.

He inhaled deeply now, letting his expectation of reading her mind sink in. And then he read.

_‘Dearest Lord M,_

_It has been a while since we last met, and I find myself missing your company and conversation. My little Bertie is already growing apace and I am quite recovered after the birth, but with Christmas approaching in such different circumstances, I find myself reminiscing. I recall our previous Christmases together with great fondness – your wit and good humour always made the day pass with such cheer._

_I would very much like you to come and spend this Christmas time with us at Windsor. You seem so remote at Brocket Hall and I am sure you would care to be with familiar company and companionship._

_Please do come. I miss you so._

_Yours, as always, with the deepest affection,_

_Victoria’_

He read it and reread it and read it again.

William pored over her words. Was that a melancholy he detected? A malaise? It broke him to sense that. His darling girl must not be unhappy.

If he could ordain his life, he would be with her at Christmas, her, only her. He would take her to a remote cottage somewhere and he would adore her and love her and tend to her and please her and nothing else.

But Windsor. She would be there, yes … and so would he, the husband. He was not a bad man, the Prince Consort. In any other circumstances, Melbourne would’ve been quite fond of the chap, but he admitted to finding his presence unappealing. And the effort of court protocol dismayed him.

But she needed him, she wanted him, and, no matter what the circumstances, he wanted her.

Melbourne sat quickly and took pen to paper.

_‘Lord Melbourne presents his humble duty to Her Majesty and is glad to hear that she is well after the birth of her son. Lord Melbourne would be most content to spend Christmas at Windsor and thanks Her Majesty for her gracious invitation. It has, as she notes, been some time since last meeting._

_Your humble servant,_

_Melbourne’_

‘Baines!’

His butler appeared quickly and Melbourne turned to him with the letter. ‘Ensure this reaches Windsor as soon as possible.’

‘Of course, sir,’ said Baines.

Melbourne took a deep breath and looked out over his lawns. Christmas could not come soon enough.

\--xoOox--

He arrived on Christmas Eve. The carriage took him up the Long Walk, which afforded the best approach to the castle. Melbourne looked from the window. There was the lightest dusting of snow on the ground and the air gleamed with frosty sharpness. The castle’s windows twinkled with a million lights, it seemed, and he wished for the horses to gallop him forward.

He managed to rein in his expectation as he descended the carriage. He was led towards her drawing room, the same room in which he had spent so many hours of happiness, advising, laughing, gossiping.

He swallowed hard. His heart beat rapidly and his eyes darted around. He berated himself for hoping Albert was busy elsewhere. (He was, it transpired.)

Melbourne kept his eyes downcast as he walked in. If he looked directly at her he may do something rash.

‘Lord M!’ came that voice, that same silvery ribbon of a voice which threaded its way into his very soul. A rustle of skirts, the hushing of her feet as she approached. He bent and kissed her hand as he had always done and wanted to keep his lips pressed there for all time. It was her again, warm and real. She felt the same. She smelt the same.

He stood and allowed himself to look at her. She was more beautiful than even he remembered. She stared at him with such immediate adoration that he fought to remember there were others present.

‘Your Majesty,’ he said, that was all.

‘How wonderful that you could join us for Christmas, Lord M.’

‘I am most grateful for your invitation, Ma’am. I can think of nowhere more splendid to be for Christmas.’

He meant near her, obviously, but made a show of looking around the room to give the impression that he was referring to the lavishly decorated castle.

A most bizarre sight met his eyes.

‘You appear to have a tree in your drawing room, Ma’am.’

Victoria laughed. ‘I do indeed! It is Albert’s idea, a German tradition which he wanted to bring over here.’

‘I see.’ Although he didn’t see at all, if truth be told.

‘What do you think to it, Lord M?’

‘Well, it’s certainly imposing, Ma’am, and green.’

She laughed again, twinkling like the candles which adorned the tree.

‘But I do like the lights on it,’ he added. ‘Yes, I can safely say that it is most festive, Ma’am.’ He wanted to tell her how he could see the candlelight reflecting in her eyes and how it made them shine more wonderfully than ever, but he managed not to.

She laughed again and said, just for him, ‘How wonderful to see you again, Lord M.’

And he, just for her: ‘And you, Ma’am.’

‘Your bedchamber is a little tucked away at the end of a corridor. I thought you may like some peace and quiet away from squawking children.’

‘Are your children part parrot, Ma’am? I hadn’t realised children squawked.’

‘Mine tend to,’ she grinned wryly.

He smiled gently down and her eyes danced. She reached for his hands instinctively and caressed them briefly. ‘How I have missed you,’ she murmured again, before being summoned away by Emma.

\--xoOox--

That evening, Christmas Eve, was pleasant. Victoria was busy and went off to see to her children before bed so there was regrettably little opportunity for conversation. The rest of the evening was spent in a haze of port and cigars before everyone went to St George’s for Midnight Mass. Melbourne was seated far enough from the Queen not to be able to see her, which was probably a wise thing. His stomach had been knotted ever since reading her letter of invitation, and if he were to be seated in too close proximity, he was not sure his decorum would last.

Christmas Day dawned bright and early. After another visit to St George’s it was time to exchange gifts. William was not expected to give anything except to the Queen. When his time came, he extracted a present from his pocket and handed it to her with a bow.

‘Ma’am … may I wish you a very happy Christmas.’

She took it, her eyes briefly locking with his. ‘Thank you, Lord M. How very kind of you.’

He watched as she fumbled at the ribbons on the small box, almost making a mess of it. But soon enough the wrappings were undone and she gently opened it up.

A little gasp left the Queen, genuine and unable to be stifled.

‘What is it, Victoria?’ asked her husband, clearly curious. ‘Show me.’

‘It’s the most beautiful brooch in the form of a …’

She took it out, cupping it so that only she could see. Albert walked over and peered at it.

‘What is that? A bird of some kind? A rather grave looking bird I must say.’ He gave a hollow laugh.

‘It’s a …’ started Victoria, running her fingertips over the Champlevé bird, its eyes two diamonds, its wings tipped with sapphires.

‘A rook,’ supplied Melbourne.

‘Yes … a rook, it’s a rook,’ she repeated softly.

‘Hm,’ sniffed Albert. ‘You like rooks, Lord Melbourne, do you?’

‘Yes, I do, sir, very much. There is a rookery at Brocket Hall.’

‘Noisy creatures.’

‘Only when agitated, sir,’ asserted Melbourne. He continued with unassuming dignity, ‘They are quite content when I sit with them.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ said Victoria softly. She looked up at him and he met her gaze. Her eyes were bright with tears. ‘Thank you.’

‘You are most welcome, Ma’am.’

Victoria attached the brooch to her gown immediately, just over her heart.

\--xoOox--

Christmas dinner that evening was less restrained than it had been the previous night. Alcohol had been consumed throughout most of the day, after all. William was seated on the other side of the table and along slightly from Victoria.

Albert talked a lot, tonight about innovations in the weaving industry. Everyone seemed to be most fascinated. She admired his passion and knowledge, and was happy to indulge him, but she grew weary and her mind wandered. How oppressive it all seemed, how stifling.

She glanced over at William. He alone was not looking at the Prince Consort. Instead, he was looking at her.

Everyone was attuned to Albert, looking up at him with admiring concentration. No one would see the former Prime Minister staring intently at his monarch.

Victoria could scarcely breathe. She tried to turn towards Albert but was compelled back to William’s gaze, as if he alone knew her frustrations. Her frustrations and her needs and longings.

‘And the Spinning Jenny is revolutionising the way factories are designed as well. But it can become insufferably hot and crowded, and so we must ensure that –‘

Victoria heard nothing her husband said. _Insufferably_ _hot_ … She felt her cheeks flushing and her chest warming. At times she reached for water and tore her eyes away, but always he drew her back, always she wanted it.

She gave up trying not to and let herself meet William’s eyes again. Still he stared across at her, his gaze so piercing as to be almost painful. But she adored it. Those eyes which seemed to know all of her, which were so trusting and to be trusted. She met them and she held them in hers. And nothing else mattered.

Albert carried on but then, time having passed, minutes, hours, she was not sure, her husband’s voice drew her back to the present again.

‘Gentlemen, I suggest we retire to the billiard room to further this conversation.’ He looked down at his wife. ‘Victoria, will you kiss the children for me tonight? If Vicky is not sleeping, you could try looking through that book on animal classification.’

‘Well, that will certainly put her to sleep. But perhaps I wish to discuss the merits of the Spinning Jenny also?’ queried Victoria tersely.

Albert looked bewildered. ‘Do you? It is nothing of interest to you.’ He gave a slight chuckle.

Anger at her husband’s attitude raged. She stood, her face growing hotter yet. The room stood with her in a uniform scraping of chairs.

‘No, but I could!’ She wished to rage, to say so much, but she remembered William’s presence and swallowed back her temper. ‘But it is no matter for I do not wish to remain here anyway. I shall retire. I wish you all a very happy Christmas indeed.’

And she left rapidly.

As the men made their way to the billiard room, Melbourne excused himself. ‘Gentlemen … I fear the day’s celebrations have caught up with me. I must retire. Good evening and a very happy Christmas.’ He turned and made his way down the corridor, all too aware that the Queen would not be far off.

And soon enough, he heard the sound of crying coming from a short way along.

Melbourne paced slowly towards the noise, not wanting to startle. In a dark alcove around a corner, her back turned and heaving with suppressed sobs, he found Victoria. He managed not to run to her and pull her around into him. But he did approach and said, softly and tenderly, ‘Ma’am?’

She spun around. ‘Oh, you should not see me like this!’ She quickly dabbed at her tear-stained face and tried to hide from him.

‘Like what, Ma’am?’

‘This! Oh … this!’ Her distress was clear.

‘Human?’

She sobbed again. ‘Lord M … oh you know what it is like! You alone understand! I miss you, oh, I miss you!’

He stepped even closer and she turned and looked up at him, such adoration in her face that it made passion and confusion rear up in him unstoppably.

He swallowed hard, reining his emotions in, but said quite honestly, ‘Ma’am … I am here.’

She searched his face. ‘Are you? _Are_ _you_? Like before?’

‘If you wish it. If you need it.’

‘Oh … oh, Lord M!’

He could not prevent taking hold of her hands gently, with infinite concern and tenderness.

‘What is upsetting you so? Ma’am … I hate to see you troubled.’

She turned her face up and managed the slightest smile. ‘My life is so different now. Marriage, children, and Albert is so … _Albert_ … sometimes I simply find it overwhelming. I yearn for what once was, the freedom, the laughter …’

‘That is understandable, Ma’am. You know that I will advise and help as best I can.’

She almost roared in frustration. ‘I don’t want your advice, Lord M, I want –’

She broke off and closed her eyes against it, but then glanced down at the hands still holding hers.

He withdrew them quickly. ‘I apologise, Ma’am. I am forgetting myself.’

She stepped in again, closing the distance between them. ‘No, no … you are not forgetting, you are _realising_ , just as I am. Oh, Lord M … _William_ …’

And there in the dark quietness, she placed her soft, warm hands on his chest and murmured, ‘Hold me.’

‘Ma’am …’

‘Please … _please_.’

It took no more hesitation on his part, for it was the only thing to be done. He enclosed her in his arms and held her to him. And she sobbed, not through sadness now, but pure, secure joy.

For a time, they simply stood, clasped together, and time melted and responsibilities vanished. It was, once again, the two of them, perfect and together.

It was he who moved first. He looked down – he had not planned it – but his hands rose to cup her face and turn it up to him, and he stared down at her and all his love and devotion could not be contained.

‘What do you want, Victoria? Now?’ he whispered. ‘Tell me and I shall give it to you.’

‘I … want you.’

And her lips parted the slightest amount, and he bent and kissed her.

And she sighed against him and melted into him and kissed him back.

It started softly, slowly, as if it were too perfect to do more with. But she was so warm and he so tall and firm that they pushed into each other to feel and be felt.

She was the one to deepen the kiss. She opened her mouth and let him take.

They broke away, surprise catching up with them. Her eyebrows darted together – bewildered, exhilarated. But it was inescapable and unstoppable and they were immediately back, hot, hungry, seeking each other as deeply as possible, an age of longing and love colliding.

When they broke away briefly, she sobbed with happiness. ‘My darling, my darling, how I have longed for this, how I have dreamt it.’

He moaned. ‘Victoria, this is madness. We must stop, we must.’ But he didn’t stop. He planted open, hungry kisses over her face, her hair, down her neck. His hands sought over her as hers did on him, tugging, pulling, needing.

‘It will be madness if we do stop. William, I have wanted this for so long, as have you, I know it.’

‘We cannot, we cannot,’ he repeated, but still he held her, still he kissed her.

‘No one will know. No one will suspect.’

‘Victoria … my beautiful, darling girl …’ One hand held her head hard to him, the other clasped her against him around her waist.

‘Oh, my love, I adore you, I adore you,’ she said, ‘always, always, tonight, please let it be tonight.’

‘But how? It is madness. Your husband will be awaiting you.’

‘I have already told him I am sleeping apart from him tonight. He is an insufferable sleeper when he takes too much port. I will do as I wish.’

He held her head to him and stared into her eyes. ‘Do you know what you are saying?’

‘Yes, yes, now more than ever. I want you, I want you, I always have and I always will.’

‘Victoria …’

‘I will come to your room. Why do you think I insisted they put you so far from anyone else? I can approach that room from a back staircase. Everyone is retired for Christmas. The staff are largely dismissed. No one will see. Ten minutes, my darling, I will be there in ten minutes, my love, my heart, my darling.’

She kissed him again and he could not stop.

‘Yes … yes … I love … I want …’ he murmured back.

She laughed in delight but pulled out of his grasp and hurried away.

He leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed, his groin straining with need.

‘My God,’ sighed out William Lamb. But there was no going back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said gird thy loins? Now's the time. Enjoy. x
> 
> (PS - I wrote this entire chapter in a few hours today, so forgive any typos, but also tell me about them and I'll correct. Didn't want you to have to wait.)

When Melbourne returned to his room, it was with an expectation which nearly upended him. It would happen; he wanted it, as did she. He needed it, as did she. But, by God, he was surely insane.

He glanced in the mirror. He still wore the Windsor uniform, the damnable thing she insisted on at the castle. He did not mind indulging her, but it was so insufferably hot and heavy. He wanted nothing more than to tear it off but he would wait for her.

William Lamb ran a hand through his hair. The grey was not as pervasive as many of his age, admittedly, but this young woman who had it all … and she wished for him? He was so old. His hand moved to his face and grazed over his cheeks. He was told he was still as handsome as many men younger than him, that women desired him, but he would scoff at that. Now he stood tall in the mirror and turned side on, bringing a hand to his front. Since leaving office, he had lost much of the girth Parliamentary dinners had added. Long, often frantic walks around his estate had made him trimmer than he could recall for some time. It was not necessarily a healthy trimness, but he could ignore that for now. He was proud of how the brocaded cloth sat on him.

Melbourne sniffed out a laugh again, at himself, his vanity and his insecurity.

But it had been a while since he had been with a woman. Despite his active past, he had recently contented himself with orchids, rooks and a selection of choice cartoons purchased from a discreet establishment on Dean Street. He supposed he would remember what to do. He had natural instinct and skill, apparently, according to his past lovers … so many of them. His subtle seduction and ability to please had served him well over the years. He closed his eyes. Is that what he was doing now? It made him dizzy. She was the only lover he wanted. If he had her now, he would never want another, he knew that. It was as if all the women from his past – even Caro – had been in preparation for this moment.

He leaned on the bureau to steady himself and raised his head to the mirror one more time.

Yes. Necessity and fulfilment. For them both. Why deny it?

Now his mouth ticked into the slightest smile, and libidinous energies coursed through him. The bells of St George’s struck midnight, and at that moment, there was the softest knock at the door.

He took a moment, allowing himself a final chance of refutation. It did not come. So Melbourne raised himself tall and walked to the door.

He opened it. Victoria stood outside, her face obscured in the hood of a cloak she had placed over her gown.

She said nothing, neither did he, but he held the door open for her and she slipped past him. He glanced down the corridor – it was silent, dark and empty, and so he retreated inside, closed the door and locked it quietly.

William turned to her slowly. She stood quite elegantly and determinedly. She had removed the cloak already and met his eyes with ardent conviction.

He was decided, but still he asked, ‘Are you certain of this?’ (He dispensed with ‘Ma’am’; it seemed absurd given the circumstances.)

‘Never more certain,’ she declared.

Victoria came up close and looked at him, as if trying to imprint every part of him on her. Her eyes took in the shape of him, the clothes he wore, his height, the reality of him.

Placing her hands on his abdomen, she then drew them up with a confidence which thrilled him.

‘Of all the men here, you wear the Windsor uniform best.’

‘I hate it, you know.’

‘I suspected as much, but … indulge me, Lord M.’

Oh, she smirked, and her eyes gleamed with wickedness. He liked it greatly, as did the contents of his breeches.

‘Always, Ma’am.’ (She bit her lip at his use of it. The title did, after all, have its occasional uses.)

Her hands continued up to curl around his neck and, with lips dampened and reddened where her little teeth had dug in, she invited his kiss. He considered denying her briefly – the expectation was delicious, after all – but he was too greedy for the taste of her, and so he let her draw him down and met her lips with his. She moaned instantly, a high, sweet moan which made him cup his hands around her waist and pull her harder in against him. She kissed sweetly at first then with increasing need, open-mouthed and searching. Her tongue sought his and he gave it, a curl of self-satisfaction seeping through him to rouse his cock yet further. He pressed against her and her moan became a whine of immediate need. Her hands broke their hold around his neck and she started to fumble at the buttons on his jacket – never an easy task, he knew.

They could not stop kissing and Victoria trying to undo his jacket while doing so proved vexing. She groaned in frustration and practically hit at him when thwarted.

He took her hands and pulled them gently off him, kissing her fingers with a laugh. She ran them over his mouth and pressed two between his lips. He could not help but suck on them greedily, making her own lust surge and causing her to push hard against his already livid erection.

But he would be patient, and so he drew back, eliciting a whine from her.

‘No, I will not rush,’ he asserted. ‘There is time for all.’

He moved to stand behind her and studied her clothing, considering how to undress her. How to reveal her at last.

Victoria swallowed back her frustration and waited. William brought his hands to the hooks on her gown. One by one he released them, enjoying the languor he achieved. He could feel her need, her coiled longing – it matched his, after all – but she was a forbearing thing, and he smirked in approval.

The gown parted to reveal creamy white skin across her shoulders. He could not prevent himself planting the softest kisses over it, gently – not too indulgent for now – and her head fell back and she reached behind to curl fingers in his hair and hold him to her.

He took the moment to push the gown from her shoulders and let it descend in azure silk to pool at her feet. Her shoulders were bare now and he ran his hands slowly down her arms, almost a tickle. Again, she sobbed in frustration, but, leaning in, he murmured against her ear, ‘Shh. Wait. Be good. And let me love you.’ And his hands moved to the laces of her corset.

Her breath caught as he continued to kiss along her shoulders while undoing them. Soon enough her corset fell away too and he lifted off her chemise and removed her drawers. She was naked except for her stockings.

He would have gently turned her to face him, but Victoria moved around boldly and let him look. She was perfect, his perfect, wonderful her. He swallowed back the emotion which was briefly so strong that it threatened even to curtail his lust.

‘You are so beautiful,’ was all he could say, and she curled herself upon him again and they kissed. His hand found a breast and gently held it, softly stroked and squeezed until she was moaning against his lips. When he grazed over a nipple her breath caught and she pulled back, biting her lip again, her eyelids fluttering. He did it again and matched it on the other.

She drew in a sharp gasp but pushed forward for more.

‘You like that?’ he asked. She nodded. He carried on and adored watching her reaction. She was lost to it already.

‘Tell me what you like, Victoria, tell me all of it.’

And at that she took hold of his head and guided him down to a breast. Without a thought, he closed his mouth over the nipple. She mewled with pleasure and held him close upon her.

‘Yes, I like that,’ she sighed almost deliriously. ‘I like that so very much.’

By God, that was glorious! He pulled her in hard against him and laved and sucked and tugged on the nipple, only making her sob and keen for more. Already she was the perfect lover, already he imagined what more would be.

He had wanted to resist for a time, but she was so suddenly wanton and enticing that he needed to feel. His hand slid between her legs. She parted them a little and gasped in encouragement.

With supreme restraint he only allowed a single finger (the middle one, for it was the longest, after all) to slide through the heart of her. Christ, but she was wet! He let the nipple pop from his mouth in revelation as her lust coated his finger. He stroked along, grazing that taut nub of flesh that sat so expectantly for him. Tearing himself reluctantly from the deliciousness of her breasts, William stood tall again, meeting her eyes, although they were glazed with pleasure and barely focused.

‘Look at me,’ he said, more assertive than he’d intended. But she did, opening her eyes wide along with the round ‘O’ of surprise at her mouth.

‘Oh yes …’ she slurred. ‘Oh, yes, yes … Feel me, feel me.’

He had intended to pull back, but instead, at her behest, he pushed his finger up inside her, that first moment of penetration which he would treasure forever.

She gasped, and he groaned, for it was perfect. That warm, wet heat of cossetting happiness was his at last. He slid another finger in too, unable to stop himself. Her, all her, on his fingers. The warm glove of her quim tightened on his fingers and he held his breath with the wonder of it.

Should he let her come so soon? He had intended to eke her first moment of pleasure out, but he was not sure he could deny her or himself.

‘Do you want to come?’ he asked. ‘So soon? I will, my love, I will give you all you wish.’

Her face creased, as if she too were fighting it. Would she be too sore afterwards to continue, as some women were? He wanted her to tell him, he wanted her candour and honesty.

‘Yes, let me come, let me.’ She almost begged. ‘I will come and come for you, my darling, my love. Let me show you all of me.’

And it was his eyes now which pricked with tears. But he worked concertedly, building her pleasure as they stood there in the middle of the room, a bare few minutes since she had come to him, no more than twenty since they had first decided on it, half an hour before she had been Queen and he a statesman. Now she would come apart on his fingers.

His free hand curled around the back of her neck and he held her so that she looked into him. Victoria bit her lip – he adored that, he had already decided – and frowned so that her little brows danced curiously. But he learned to read her quickly, what she liked, what did not work. He held her at bay as best he could, but her lust was so primed, her need so great, that he could not contain it long.

And so, as he circled and stroked and slipped up and out to catch that place time and again before returning to it concertedly, he felt her catch her breath and tense for it.

‘There … come,’ he said.

And, with a shuddering gasp, her climax tore through her, causing her to shake against him.

‘Oh … ohhh!’ The gasp became a howl almost – it endured long, and he allowed himself some pride.

Victoria could barely stand after and he guided her to lie carefully back upon the bed. Her body still quivered as the after effects of ecstasy left it, and she was panting hard. He took the moment carefully to slide off her stockings. Victoria stretched out her body, sighing off the last of her pleasure with a bleary smile. ‘Oh dear God, that was …’

‘What? Tell me.’ (Again, his assertiveness surprised him, although it should not have.)

‘It was … so very powerful and … it went on and on. Oh, my darling, my darling, thank you.’ And she sat up, newly energised, and kissed him in gratitude. She started again to scrabble to undo his clothing and this time he aided her, slipping out the buttons. She knelt up on the bed and they were kissing again, brutally, desperately.

‘This damnable bloody uniform!’ he hissed when their lips occasionally parted.

She laughed. ‘Oh, but Lord M, it does sit so very well on you.’ But he had at last managed to part the jacket and remove it, and she was tugging his shirt out of his breeches and sliding her hands up underneath. Her fingers found his nipples and he sucked in. She grinned. ‘You see … you are not the only one who can tease thus.’

So she continued to tease a while longer and he was so hard it hurt. His head fell back with a groan of desperation. ‘Victoria … please, God, please.’

Her hands moved to his breeches and, with almost unseemly haste, she undid them. He was very glad she had, as he feared he would split the seams if things had been contained for much longer.

Victoria looked down at what was before her, then slowly lifted her eyes to his and smiled broadly.

-xox-

It was a natural instinct of hers to explore new things as completely as possible, and so, when faced with the object in question (and a wondrous object at that) a mere few inches from her, Victoria did not hesitate in curling her fingers around it. The man above her exhaled sharply and she looked up. How natural this was, how right. It was inevitable, she decided, that she and William should be lovers. It had long been inevitable, and now that it was happening, there was no doubting any of it. And so, without another moment to consider, she slid from the bed and onto her knees before him.

‘What?’ he asked, looking down in confusion. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Surely you need not ask that?’

Her tongue caught her lips, her mouth watered in anticipation. It would not be the first time she had done this, not that he would want nor need to know. It was an act she was most happy to bestow.

But he bent to her, taking hold of her by the shoulders and trying to pull her to her feet.

‘Victoria … no, no. You do not need to do that. I would never ask it of you.’

She was almost disappointed. ‘Do you not like it?’

He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I … I … How does one answer that!?’

‘ _I_ like it,’ she stated clearly.

He looked down. Her sweet face sat there, her lips full, her mouth ready. No one could doubt her conviction.

She watched his hesitation and concern melt before her eyes. Instead of trying to pull her to her feet, he left off and stroked her face instead, even running his thumb over her mouth to open it wider in readiness.

‘Then,’ he said, his mouth curling into a smile of delicious anticipation, ‘don’t stop.’

And she widened her mouth and closed it around the head of his cock.

‘Christ!’ he exclaimed, for there had never been happiness like it.

Oh, he sat full and hard and good on her tongue. Victoria sucked in her cheeks, tasting him. He leaked onto her and the saltiness only made her mouth water more. So she tongued him, licking down to the root before dragging it up the underside again. She knew what worked; there was a compatibility in what both she and the man relished.

She took hold of his sac, cupping, squeezing, judging what he liked (quite hard, it transpired). Victoria relaxed her mouth and moved down on him as far as she could, letting him sink even into her throat. She held him as long as she dared, revelling in the paradoxical gleam of supremacy it gave her. Then when she needed air, she drew back, keeping her lips tight on the shaft and letting her tongue catch and tease as she released him fully.

‘Victoria!’ he gasped, the only word he could now manage. But when she licked again and then sucked hard and then sank down further even than before, his words were replaced by a constant groan. He brought his hands to her head and, although she needed no guiding, she enjoyed the sensation of his fingers tangled in her hair, almost at a loss, chaotically entwined in the strands in an attempt to focus.

She could do this forever; she could hold him in her mouth and take him and suck and lick and taste forever, she decided. But, regrettably, it did not work like that, and as his moans deepened and she felt what she still held in her hand tighten, she drew back quickly, releasing him to the cool air.

William groaned again, this time with frustration, but with supreme effort she tore herself away and stood to whisper in his ear. ‘I want you inside me properly, my darling. I want you to release inside me, I want you to fill me. Please, please come into me.’

He took her head in his hands and, with a moment to stare deep into her, kissed her an almost violent hunger, and she adored him for it.

‘Yes, yes,’ he slurred. ‘Nowhere else, nowhere but deep within you, for you are my goddess, Victoria, you are my angel and my salvation.’

She smiled against his plundering kisses but then pulled from his grasp and sank back onto the bed, running her hands over her body lasciviously. Cupping her breasts, she took hold of the nipples herself, pinching and rolling them in desperate need.

William quickly stripped himself of the remainder of his clothes, although she considered asking him to leave his shirt on; she was partial to the way it hung on the male form. But he was hasty now, and when he did lift it off, she had no complaints. In fact, her lust asserted itself so profoundly she practically clawed at him.

But he would not be hurried. He lay over her, propped up on his elbows while he moved between her legs. She spread them wide and bucked.

‘Please, please,’ she implored, but it was his time to dictate things.

‘I thought I’d taught you better than that.’

She frowned and ran her hands over the silks of the bedclothes to gain some tangible relief.

‘How do you mean?’

He merely smirked and bent to kiss her. She reached up into the kiss but her legs curled around him, urging him to take her.

When he drew back he said, ‘I taught you to take things slowly and carefully, allowing every moment to sink in, so as not to miss anything vitally important.’

‘Allowing every moment to sink in?’ she repeated.

‘Hm mm,’ he hummed.

‘But …’

‘No, Victoria. Wait.’

She practically roared with frustration, but, biting her lip again, she coiled in her lust and steadied her breathing. He stared down at her the whole time, waiting until she had settled, and then, when she was quite still, he felt for her wetness, then guided himself to her opening.

She let out a little gasp but swallowed it back.

‘I have waited so long,’ she said, tears catching her eyes.

‘You think I have not? I have waited my whole life for this, my darling.’

And he pushed in. Her mouth open but she remained silent, locked with his eyes. He pushed again and again and soon he was embedded, as deep and hard and full inside her as was possible.

He didn’t move. She didn’t want him to. She just felt him and he her. She held his eyes and smiled softly and reached up to cup his face, stroking over his cheekbone with her thumb.

‘At last,’ she murmured.

And he bent to kiss her, perhaps to hide the tears forming in his own eyes.

And when he broke away she whispered in his ear, ‘Move in me.’

So he withdrew with a beautiful slowness, and she knew it was him for it was so perfect, and just as he almost fell from her, he pushed in again, not fast but steadily, and she sighed with the wonder of it.

‘Again,’ she said, holding his back now, her need rising swiftly again.

He began to move more concertedly, never losing that connection, stroking along her as if his own pleasure didn’t matter, all of it was for her, only her.

Reaching down, he drew her left leg up over his hip and angled his thrusts perfectly.

‘Oh God, yes!’ she sobbed, for this way he caught her as he moved, caught that place he’d discovered so well earlier. But, being the gentleman he was, he brought his hand there too and she moaned into his kiss and pushed up into his fingers. All the while he moved in her, stroking his length through her, filling her with all of him.

‘Victoria,’ he said, and every drop of his devotion was contained in that one word, her name.

She was close. He was so good, too good. She clung to him, her breath hitching.

‘William … oh please, please, now!’

And she let it happen, coming again with such force that her back buckled and she clawed at the sheets without even realising. She groaned as it took her, lifting her head to stare into him with an expression of amazed wonder as pleasure raged through her again.

He followed instantly. As her orgasm gripped him he burst into her, long and deep, locking eyes with her as best he could while he came so hard he was momentarily blinded. The sound of his pleasure was one she would hear again and again – a sound of pure rapture, of happiness and sheer love.

He collapsed on her after, heavy and panting, but she did not mind. She wanted that, the weight and crush of him.

She let her arm fall across his back and held him to her.

They didn’t speak. There was no need. After several minutes, however, she did need to breathe properly again, and so gently nudged him with a giggle.

He pushed up a little and smiled down.

‘You’re heavy,’ she declared.

‘And there I was thinking I was most slender these days, Ma’am.’

She laughed again. ‘Oh, you are, most certainly, but even then I might need to move at some point.’

His face fell a little. ‘I shall have to come out of you.’

She reached up and kissed him. ‘For now.’

His eyes narrowed but he asked no more. Slowly, carefully, he withdrew and rolled off.

They lay on their sides, staring at each other.

‘Thank you,’ he murmured.

‘You don’t need to say that. It is I who should thank you.’

‘No, you don’t. Say something else.’

She paused only briefly but it came with little hesitation. ‘I love you.’

He could not reply, he was so taken aback. She did not expect nor need a response, but then, just as clearly, he said, ‘And I love you. I always shall.’

‘I know.’

They kissed again, and, when exhaustion finally grew too much, they fell asleep.

\--xoOox--

William woke early, which was fortunate considering that he found himself with the Queen in his bed.

He stared at her, still sleeping. How beautiful she was, how perfect, how he wished he could wake beside her every day. But now was enough, more than he ever thought possible. He could not help himself and reached over to stroke her face.

At that, she inhaled and stirred, opening her eyes and smiling when she saw him.

‘Lord M,’ she said slowly, ‘I do believe you made love to me last night.’

‘And you to me, Ma’am.’

She stretched and rolled over and then a panic took hold and she sat up quickly. ‘Whatever time is it?’

‘Shh,’ he soothed. ‘It is just before five. There is no rush.’

She fell back again. ‘Thank goodness. But I must return before my absence is noted. They may see me returning anyway. I shall have to say I went for a walk early as I could not sleep. I had the foresight to disturb my sheets before I came to you last night.’

‘And come to me you did,’ he said.

She turned her head and stared, letting his pun hit home before she dissolved into giggles again.

‘How very rude you are, William!’

He rolled over to her. ‘And, you … Ma’am … have quite a few tricks up your sleeve too, as I discovered.’

‘Did you like my tricks, Lord M?’

‘Hmm. Very much.’

‘Do we have time?’ she queried.

‘For what?’

‘You know for what.’

He quirked an eyebrow, moved on top of her, and was inside her almost immediately. ‘This, you mean?’

‘Something like that,’ she replied, but the last word was lost in a gasp as he thrust fully up inside her.

They made love again as perfectly as before, but time was pressing and they brought the other to the strongest climaxes before the clock struck the quarter hour.

When he fell from her this time it pained him; an inner desolation took hold.

In silence now, Victoria rose from the bed to wash and dress.

He reached for his dressing gown and placed it on. He helped her with laces and hooks, reversing what he had done so wonderfully the night before.

She sighed. ‘I must return.’

‘Yes.’

‘It has been perfect.’

‘Yes.’

‘It had to be, you know.’

‘Yes, it did. Always.’

She looked at him and smiled, stroking a hand down his face. Then, reaching up, she kissed him softly on the lips. ‘Good bye, Lord M.’

‘Good bye, Ma’am.’

At the door she turned back. ‘William …’

‘Yes?’

She seemed to hesitate, but then said, ‘You know.’

‘What do you mean?’

Victoria held his gaze plainly and said, ‘This won’t be the last time.’

It clutched at his heart. ‘Victoria … there are such complications.’

‘But we cannot never have that again. You know it, as do I.’

He did.

She smiled. ‘And so … Happy Christmas, William … until the next time.’

And with that she slipped out of the door and left.

William Lamb let his head fall back with a sigh. But the desolation which had taken hold earlier dissipated. Complications could be overcome, after all. And happiness was not something to squander.

_Until the next time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love from me. (And be a dear and leave a comment. x)

**Author's Note:**

> Gird thy loins.  
> (And leave a comment, pretty please.)  
> x


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